


IV - The Emperor

by triptychings



Series: The Major Arcana [5]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Gen, like the common trend so far
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 17:48:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8587993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triptychings/pseuds/triptychings
Summary: Upright: Authority, father figure, structure, solid foundation
 
Reversed: Domination, excessive control, rigidity, inflexibility





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is rushed who is surprised. I got super behind. The next one is going to be good, though, I know that for sure. It's a character that REALLY brings out beautiful words. No spoils, though.

It was nice to reminisce sometimes. It was a guilty pleasure, a crutch that went against his moral code. But there were some people that allowed him to drop his moral code, some people that he could relax around. For some, it had always been that way.

“You know, Commander, the way you drink your coffee isn't healthy. You should only have one cup a day, and maybe even cut back to just one sugar?” 

It was like this every morning.

“Dr. Ziegler, while I respect your opinion--”

“My certified opinion, which makes it a fact.” Angela interrupted, scowling at Jack’s following sigh. 

“While I respect it, frankly I don't give a damn. I've survived far too much to be beaten by caffeine. Plus, I've got some worse things in me already.”

“Jaaaack~” Ana chimed in a sing-song voice as she swung around the doorframe into the kitchen. “Lena won't wake up. She's going to be late to the meeting.” The sniper walked past, patting the blond on the shoulder as she went to retrieve her teapot from the cupboard. “I tried my hardest. It's your turn.

“You should take a note from Captain Amari, and drink tea instead,” Angela commented. “You too, Reyes.” She continued as Gabriel shuffled in, bluntly ignoring the comment and heading straight to the coffee pot. 

“Gabriel, did you sleep at all? You look absolutely exhausted.” Ana inquired, sitting next to Angela, doubling the glare towards the coffee. She didn't receive a reply past an abrupt grunt, and the gesture of pulling his beanie further down, already fully dressed. 

“Awh, did somebody wake up on the wrong side of the cot?” She teased further, poking him in the side as he sat down next to her. “You’d better hurry if you’re going to eat, that meeting starts pretty soon.” She added, her smile dropping when he cleared his throat in response. 

“Gabe, don’t tell m--.”

“A mission is a mission. I can’t just not be there. Especially not with Jesse running around right now.” Gabe sighed, knowing the backlash was going to be bitter. Especially from--

“You’re joking.”

Jack.

“Of course you can't. Gabriel, you’re our friend, and you didn’t think to tell us sooner?” Jack pressed the palms of his hands onto the table, leaning forwards towards Gabe. 

“You have your men and responsibilities, and I have mine.” Gabe nearly snarled out, taking large, scalding gulps of his coffee. He wanted to get out of there. He didn't want to sit and be scolded like some dog that had pissed on the carpet. Where did Jack get off being so high and mighty, anyways? Acting as if Overwatch were any better than Blackwatch, acting as if corruption wasn't just as thick in. Out of them but oh no, still believing in everyone and being too hopeful and too goddamn prideful to realise maybe everything isn't sunshine and rainbows.

“Gabe, we just want to know because we care, that's all. If you're being sent into something dangerous--” Ana stayed calmed, turning her tea cup between her fingers, rotating it slowly.

“I can handle myself just fine.” Gabriel was growing more and more annoyed, it was apparent in the tone of his voice, and the tensing of his shoulders.

“We’re not saying you can't.” Jack interjected, beginning to relax, thinking the level of the room was coming down, which just made it easier for Gabriel to snap.

“Are you sure about that, Jack? Because it kinda feels like that's exactly what you're saying. Because if I could handle myself, I wouldn't be part of Blackwatch, right?” He stood up, thick palms slamming on the table, causing Angela to drop her head into her hands. She was too new to the organisation to say anything, to try and interfere, and she felt she would just make the whole situation worse. “Sorry I'm not some perfect poster boy like you are, Morrison.” 

He could feel his blood boiling, his whole body was red hot with anger. Leaving about a quarter of a cup of coffee there, he headed towards he exit, only to feel an equally calloused hand grab his, and he whipped back around.

Baby blue eyes. 

“It doesn't have to be like this, Gabriel.”

He paused. He knew his hesitation gave him away enough.

“I think it does.”

His face was wet.

A few months later, and those baby blues would be filled with desperation, and then blinded in despair.

Everything fell apart. 

Here lies Jack Morrison.

\--

His face was wet.

He was crying. Look at him. Big bad Jack Morrison, big bad Soldier 76, and here he was crying over the past. He was a soldier, yet he was letting himself get distracted. Ana would slap him if she were here. But she wasn't. None of them were. 

Overwatch had fallen, and so had everyone he had loved. And by his own hand. He wondered how this happened. He believed so strongly in Overwatch having been disbanded, he knew it was the right thing, after all that had happened. He was glad, he supported the decision thoroughly. But it still hurt. His eyes still stung and he still carries the weight of his wrongdoings. He still knew he couldn't get them back. He didn't know where they were.

He thought about the memories he shared. They were good memories but they felt so awful. His hearing was heightened. He could hear someone. Pulling his pulse rifle up, he kneeled, pressing the side of his visor. Light. Colours. Abstract shapes. It always took a second to readjust.

He waited. A figure. Clean shots. He didn't even have to reload. He put his hand to his ear, to press the communicator on.

“Ana, what can you see? Are w-”

Oh. Yeah. He was on his own. For a moment, he almost thought he was the Strike Commander of a man he used to be again.

Then again, maybe it was better this way.

**Author's Note:**

> If there's anyone following this and also Metamorphic, I'm super sorry for the delay on that, too. With Sombra being released, it changed a lot of the plot, so it's going to take a bit, I have a lot to rewrite, and am really busy in general with school, and work, and theatre, and some medical issues, but it is coming!


End file.
